I’m working with the UK Arts Marketing Association as part of their Show Up programme, which challenges CEOs to explore what it means to work towards inclusion and accountability. One of my responsibilities is to blog about the experience. This is the first in a series of reflections.

There’s a phrase that’s been doing the rounds, as individuals and organisations have been waking up to the need to take responsibility for addressing the power imbalances that beset almost every aspect of society – “do the work”. But what does it mean, and how do we begin?

For some folks – especially those who find they are part of the inequitable and unjust structures, whether knowingly or otherwise – the prospect of having to add to a workload that might already feel burdensome provokes a sense of overwhelm.

“I feel like I’m being told I’m a bad person. I feel alone in this process. I don’t know where to start. What is it I have to do? What is the work? How will I make headspace and time for it? How do I know if I’m doing it right? What if I get it wrong?”

These are some of the responses I heard from friends and colleagues, especially White friends and colleagues, a couple of years ago when there was a sudden rush to read every book and watch every film about antiracism, inclusivity and diversity.

When there was a belated albeit welcome realisation that the status quo that had prevailed to the disadvantage of so-called minorities and under-represented folks could no longer continue. When EDI policies became commonplace and marketing materials suddenly contained a proliferation of images intended to portray a diverse picture-perfect scenario.

Lots of people were eager and appeared to be “doing the work” of changing the predominantly White, able-bodied, heteronormative landscape. But behind the scenes, uncertainty, overwhelm, resistance and doubt reined.

As a mentor on the AMA Show Up programme, which encourages CEOs to explore how they can be more inclusive and accountable, I’m having similar conversations. With people who are genuinely committed to creating change, and at the same time, feel overwhelmed. All compounded by the added anxieties and workload necessitated by a global health pandemic.

So what and who supports leaders to lead a new way forward?

One simple step is to talk to more and different people. Much of inequality and inequity is rooted in separation and disconnection, when an individual or group of people are set aside, cast out of the conversation, when people come to feel alone. The antidote is to broaden the conversation.

One thing I find in our science/knowledge dominant Western culture is that we tend to think we can read/think/calculate/strategise our way of difficult scenarios, that the solution lies in accruing and acquiring more knowledge – via the said lists that prevailed when people were encouraged to educate themselves towards a fairer society.

There’s a lot to be said for that. Equally, there’s much to be said for the power and potential of growing our communities – we can reach out to people to invite them to be part of the conversation for change.

We can reach out to other people experiencing similar challenges and create a circle of allies and changemakers who wish to keep on growing, evolving, learning and changing – through mutually beneficial conversations and connections.

We can take a more human, person-centred approach: be willing to be vulnerable, risk exposure, welcome mistakes and ask questions. We can expand our networks and in turn, our perspectives, ask for help, and be open to conversations that yes, might force us to confront what’s uncomfortable but in the process, might inspire us all to do and crucially be different.

“How are you doing? How am I doing? What could we do differently? What works? Where have we gone wrong? What have we missed? These are my challenges, tell me yours. How can we help and support each other?”

Having difficult conversations is, by it’s very nature, not easy - and it’s vital that we do it regardless because what’s the alternative otherwise? The continuation of a status quo that serves a privileged few and maintains a system that is rotting the insides of everyone in it.

No judgement. This shit is hard because it means disclosing our unspoken and shame-inducing judgements, it means facing biases we tell ourselves and our others we don't have, it possibly involves risking feeling small and exposed and vulnerable.

Organisationally, it means pausing the hamster wheel and doing things a little differently. In a society and culture raised on individualism and a numerical, monetized idea of hierarchical success, a different approach can feel a little threatening, like a wound to our individual or organisational ego (i.e. the veneer of a polished and long-standing brand). And sure, when we get hung up on and attached to a certain way of being perceived and thought of, in other words when our egos reach a certain peak point, it can feel instinctive to protect them. But who does that help? And what does it hinder? In a word - and to reclaim it for the purpose of conscious and conscientious human development rather than for the self-serving sake of capitalism - progress.

Facing the parts of ourselves we’d rather not is how we get out of the proverbial and felt sense comfort zone and into a place and process that can help us evolve with intention.

Instead of seeing the conversations and the process as threatening, can we see it as an opportunity for much-needed change, and a chance to have our say rather than go along like automatons with how things have always been done?

I believe we can. I’m also acutely aware that it takes a willingness and a mindset that is open to exploring. Gladly, there’s a lot of folks committing to this alternative pathway to changing how we relate. That’s the work, that’s the process.